The smell, he thought,
Eluded her,
Yet she frowned,
Aware of what he brought.

The lips of her puffered face
Would shine up,
Humoured by his sulfurous race.

"Aha!" she would yell,
And sprint towards him,
"It is he!"
"Burn in hell!" her mouth would grin.

"It is not I!" he yields.
"It is thy food you serve!"
"It maketh me unwell!" he pleads.

Yet the further growls of the beast within
Release gasses so foul, to say the least.

"Burn him!" she roared,
Her fingers above her nose,
Whilst she krept on the floor.

"Nay! I am innocent! It is not I, but the beast inside!"
The growl would roar,
Then suddenly, afore,
Guts shot out,
Within, to reach out,
A demon’s foul snout!

A beast of swine
Would crawl out on four,
And leave him left in whine,
Collapsed on the floor.

The demon would baffle those around,
Swallow their feet,
Arms, and pound.

Left him there to bleed,
Innocent he were;
They were the swine to heed,
The beast within now freed.

Corpses of those who him accuse
Now lay dead,
To his amuse.